The big questions and general prophecies depressed David, but he hadn’t the resilience of spirit of a young Ben who contemplated with more curiosity than terror what lay ahead. These worldly worries were his new mantle of manhood rather than mortal burdens.

‘It must have been interesting to be right at the centre of everything the way you were,’ Ben said.

‘The centre!’ David exclaimed.

‘You could have started a coup or a war or an evacuation.’

David’s laugh was incredulous.

‘Well, you could, if you’d wanted to,’ Ben said, a little less certainly.

‘The only thing I ever wanted to do,’ David said, hearing how little his grandson wanted to sound foolish, ‘was just not to read about a plane crash or assassination. You know that old argument about whether or not the falling tree makes a sound if there’s no one around to hear it? The real point is that the tree falls in any case.’

‘But look what the rock stars have been able to do for Africa, all because of the media,’ Ben said.

Even David, living in a news black-out as much as he could, had heard ‘Tears Are Not Enough’ and ‘We Are the World’. His granddaughters sang such songs around the house, and they did rise up above the vicious lyrics and nerve pounding of hard rock to reassure the children that their superstars had power and purpose beyond their faddish millions.

‘And the first thing any revolutionary does to overthrow the government is to get control of the media,’ Ben went on.

David didn’t try to explain that his job was never to write the news but simply to read it, his only responsibility the correct pronunciation of foreign names. He knew Ben wanted to think well of his grandfather to reassure himself of a significant role to play in the affairs of the world.

Giving Ben an affectionate shoulder hug, David got out of the car and made his way from the alley down the back steps where he’d left a light on for himself. Once in his bedroom, he sat down on the bed and turned his bedside clock to face him.

Raincoat collar turned up, hat pulled down, he said into it,

‘This is David Crown bringing you the CBC news at six. You have twenty minutes to get out of town.’

He paused. Taking on the power to save or destroy the country was too ambitious a role when his only recent success had been begging two dollars from a likely stranger. David didn’t even feel competent to talk with his younger daughter; yet he must now soon before she heard it from some other member of the family.